


One Last Night

by SaadieStuff



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon compliant future fic, M/M, Michael is in a bad place, vague smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-05-18 10:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19332319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaadieStuff/pseuds/SaadieStuff
Summary: Post 1x13, Michael comes to visit Alex before he leaves for space.(Ch1 was a complete story but I've now added a short Ch2!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [estel_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow/gifts).



> **For the prompt from estel_willow:** "'Don’t leave me behind.' - Alex giving Michael the ship piece back?"
> 
> I think this is a little different than my usual style? (Or maybe I’m just imagining that.) Hope you like it!

Michael stares at the reflective piece of spaceship console Alex has just handed him.

"I've had it for months,” Alex admits, “I should have given it to you as soon as you showed me your bunker, but then everything happened and…” he shifts on his feet, running a nervous hand through his own hair, “You're pushing everyone away so hard, Guerin. I’m hanging in there but--"

"Thanks," Michael says dismissively, and waves him off without looking up.

"Alright,” Alex sighs, because he’s not here to fight, not today. “Just... **don't leave me behind** , okay?" Alex adds, knowing it’s loaded, but meaning to make a joke of it anyways as it's a ridiculous thing to say -- a console does not a ship make. But the idea that Michael might _want_ to leave if he could? It had been enough to make Alex run before, and it's enough to make Alex stand his ground now, even as he turns to leave.

"I can't promise that," Michael says quietly to Alex's back, and takes his breath away.

* * *

Months later, Michael shows up on Alex's doorstep in the middle of the night.

"You asked me not to leave you behind," Michael says simply.

"I did," Alex agrees.

"I never promised that," Michael tells him.

"I know,” Alex says, still remembering the ragged chill Michael’s words had sent down his spine. “How have you been?” Alex asks tentatively, for Michael has been a ghost for months, constantly disappearing, and impossible to get a hold of -- even more so now that Max is back, which is the opposite of what everyone had expected.

"I'm leaving tomorrow,” Michael says, ignoring Alex’s question, licking his lips for something to do while he debates holding Alex’s gaze.

Progress, Alex thinks, and chooses his words carefully, speaking slowly. “Thank you for telling me. We all worry when you drop out of contact for days at a time, you know,” he says tenderly, trying not to heap guilt on Michael, and adds a smile, “So... do you know when you’ll be back?”

Silence.

“Can you tell me where you’re going?”

“Tennessee,” Michael says, managing a near microscopic smirk.

Alex frowns, but he’s happy to see Michael with a sense of humour, sort of.

Michael’s gaze skitters away from Alex’s face, instead falling to his own feet, where he kicks at some mud his boots tracked onto the porch.

“I’m leaving the planet, Alex,” Michael says flatly.

“If you don’t want to tell me details, that’s okay. Like I said, I appreciate you letting me know you’ll be away for a bit. It’s good to touch base,” Alex says, reserved with his praise, fearing too much will scare Michael off somehow.

“I’m serious,” Michael says, and with all trace of humour gone from his tone and his face, it rattles Alex.

“As in... you’re travelling to outer space?” Alex asks, turning it over in his mind, thinking this has to be a metaphor, but not coming up with anything that’s good news.

“Yes,” Michael confirms.

“How?” Alex asks. Even with the console complete, it's not like Michael could actually go anywhere. The ship he'd need to build -- genius he may be, but the materials and resources he'd need? Well, he's not NASA.

Michael shakes his head, and looks off to the side, fixing his stare down the length of Alex’s porch and out into the forest. "Just believe it, for a second. And consider that I might not make it back… And tell me…” Michael exhales sharply and faces Alex again, “Tell me... do you want one last night?"

"Yes," Alex says quickly. He doesn't know what game they're playing, but this buys him time to figure it out. That’s what he reasons anyways, pushing aside that he’s been wanting another night with Michael since their _last_ night together, before the drive in, before he walked away again, before he knew it was about to be over. It’s not like he replays that night over and over, their casual love-making after they’d so quickly fallen into a comfortable rhythm in just a few weeks time. And then the bagels, and not taking that damn ride. _Fuck_. Alex hadn’t been ready then -- he knows that even if they did it all over again, him _then_ couldn’t say yes. But him _now_? _Yes-yes-yes_.

“Alex?” Michael seems to call softly to him from a great distance.

“Yes,” Alex says again, because he’s not sure what he said out loud and what was in his head, and he just wants to get Michael inside and for one night not be worried about where he is.

"You sure?” Michael drawls, trying to put up his swagger front and failing miserably in Alex’s ears.

“Yes,” Alex repeats easily, thinking of the last time Michael gave him this chance, when he’d had to push back so hard, _with a whimper_ , or they’d have ended up fucking in a bathroom stall at the Wild Pony.

“Might it be easier to not have me again -- not make it fresh?” Michael continues, and Alex isn’t sure which of them he’s trying to convince, “You probably already forgot how it feels when I touch you."

"Never," Alex shakes his head and moves towards Michael. "Never did, never will," he whispers as his lips find Michael's, and he drags him inside, desperate to have Michael under him and safe.

Alex hadn’t even realized how scared he’s been all these months. Maybe he’d shoved that all down, so he’d be strong if Michael ever put himself within reach of help. And here Michael is, finally close enough for Alex to pull him into his orbit, anchor him, snatch Michael from his cold, lonely, wander of emptiness of space.

Indeed, as they fall into bed, Alex forgets what Michael has planned for tomorrow. Michael had only asked him to believe it for a second -- come and gone. So Alex takes it for what it is, whatever it is, he doesn't know.

But still, Alex notices that Michael treats it like a last. The way he pours into Alex, clinging to him, rocking too fast so Alex’s fingers must dig into his flesh harder, every ecstasy expressed by mournful whimper; each union lingering, staying joined together almost until beginning again, over and over, all night long.

In the morning, in the light, Michael says his goodbyes with tears in his eyes, and Alex panics -- it suddenly all feels real.

Alex pulls at Michael's arm, trying to keep him in the bed, because once Michael is out he'll have a head start before Alex gets his prosthetic on, or even makes it to his old crutches. He'll slip away.

“I don’t know what outer space is code for, but you’re talking like you’re not coming back, and you’re scaring me!” Alex says frantically.

“It’s not code,” Michael says weakly. If he tries to explain, he’ll never leave.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Alex breathes, deciding to play along, yet he’s so terrified he might actually believe it, that this is goodbye, he doesn’t have to put on an act at all. “If you’re going to outer space, then-- then… I need another night!”

“Alex--” Michael starts to refuse him, but his throat tightens and he can’t breathe, let alone speak.

“ _Please_ , Michael,” Alex begs, “I didn't know this was the last -- I need one more!” He wants forever, but that’s asking too much, isn’t it? When Michael wants to leave the fucking planet for the hole in his heart -- one both Alex and his father dug deep.

“I told you,” Michael whines, because he can’t deny him, even as he twists away from Alex’s grasp.

Alex grabs at him, heaving a frustrated sob for his stupid leg and the thought that he won’t be able to chase Michael down.

“You told me but I didn't _know_! I didn’t, Michael. I didn’t!” Alex shouts, feeling wild and desperate and there's a pain in his chest he knows is a fraction of what it would feel to stretch their connection so far, across universes, for him to be left wondering.

"Shhh,” Michael soothes, sympathetic, for he knows in part what Alex is feeling, for Michael felt it every time Alex deployed -- though Alex had never gone as far as Michael planned to, and at least Michael always _understood_ those could be lasts. So Michael moves to hold Alex close, conceding, “I'll give you another night.”

Alex calms instantly, tears drying up, voice finding its authority, the words rushing out. “You cannot _not_ show up, Guerin. _I will lose my fucking mind._ I swear-- In fact, we should spend the day too, right?”

“Nah, I have shit to do,” Michael shrugs him off.

“You were planning on blasting off into space today. Your schedule should be pretty much free.” Alex snaps, because everything hurts and what the fuck is going on?

“I have different shit to do now. And I’ll have to modify some inputs for the new launch date.”

“Stop,” Alex pleads.

Michael ignores him, pulling away. “Same time, same place. Just you.” One last night.

He swoops to kiss Alex on the forehead, and then he goes.

* * *

Michael does come back that night. Alex weeps when he opens the door to find him standing there.

They waste no time getting as close as possible, but with both of them exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before, they only go one round before they’re tangled in the heap they’ll hold until morning.

“I half expected the lube to be laced with alien poison so you could forcibly confine me,” Michael says after a long silence.

“I considered it…” Alex admits, for he’d considered just about every option, “But I wouldn’t. You can trust me,” he shifts to look Michael in the eyes, hand going to his jaw so he can’t look away, not that he ever really does, but the time for substituted words is over. “I love you. I have since we were seventeen. And I always will. And even though you haven't been around lately… I've fallen more in love with you every day that I've let myself grow into who I am."

Michael’s voice is but a crackle, breaking over every word. “I love you, too."

They’re both crying now, managing only the messiest of kisses, mouths scarcely finding each other as they grab clumsily for something deeper -- more skin, more love, more _soul_ \-- all without ever really moving, precious energy not to be wasted on that, not when their time is limited.

Later, Michael wakes in the dark to Alex’s fingers strumming along his back, whispered words in his ear.

“Stay. Stay. Stay."

Michael feigns sleep. It's not hard, not with Alex's soothing rhythmic chant skittering over his skin, despite what it means. Until--

"Or, take me with you.”

Michael opens his eyes. “So, you believe me now?”

“Tell me what’s really going on. It’s just me. I could help you,” Alex says softly, impossibly gentle.

Michael just tucks into him closer, and hums against his chest, “The wind is going to be too strong tomorrow.”

And with that, Alex can close his eyes.

* * *

Michael comes back the next night.

And the next.

_And the next._

It goes on for weeks. They stop having sex every night -- sometimes they just cuddle and sleep. And Michael starts staying for breakfast when it works with Alex’s schedule.

It goes on three months. Michael is there every night, though sometimes only briefly. He even comes by early for dinner often enough that Alex falls into the habit of cooking for two.

"I'm always eating your food," Michael says absently one day.

"I don't mind," Alex says.

Michael brings a bag of groceries the next day. Only enough for one meal.

After all, it's just one last night together.

* * *

Six months pass.

“Ready to go home?” Alex asks Michael, before paling, his mouth opening to try to walk it back, not wanting to risk upsetting the delicate balance they’ve mastered. But it’s too late.

For a moment, Michael worries that this disruption of the illusion will shatter him. What hits him instead is a warm wave of _happy_.

Michael beams. “I’m not going to space," he declares, "And I basically live with you. I don’t know when that all became okay, but it did.”

They barely make it out to Alex’s car before they’ve torn most of their clothes off, indignant squeals -- which they won’t talk about later -- emit from both of them as they whisper words like _boyfriend_ and tease about cleaning out drawers for Michael.

The final wall between them, constructed of the eggshells of impermanence, goes down as they at last give their whole selves to one another.

But there is one thing that nags at Alex. Perhaps it is a thread he shouldn’t pull, but when they get _home_ , he does, though only once he has Michael firmly in his arms.

“What does 'going to space' really mean?" Alex asks slowly.

"What do you mean?" Michael says sleepily.

"It's not literal,” Alex explains.

"What? Yes it is!” Michael exclaims, “I thought you eventually believed me?”

“Are you serious?” Alex is incredulous.

“Yes!” Michael says excitedly, trying to twist to face Alex, a little surprised to find he’s rather locked in a vice grip. “Alex,” he says softly, as he wriggles uselessly in Alex’s arms, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Alex reluctantly relaxes his hold. “But you could.”

“I’ll never leave you behind. I promise,” Michael says first when he turns to face Alex, “But yes, I could go to space,” he admits.

“How?” Alex raises a questioning eyebrow, “The console-- you needed a vehicle to attach it to?"

"Well... I got one..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there is more... I've only written some scraps for it. Depending on how it turns out (if it turns out) I'll either add a chapter or a new part. No one is going to space though!
> 
> ETA: 4 months later... there is a bit more! --> Ch2


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Months later... I decided to add a little bit more to the fic.

Michael takes a deep breath and prepares to tell Alex the details he’s been keeping to himself for the better part of a year.

“When I completed the console with the piece you gave me, it powered on with just my touch. It had a GPS type screen, and something was pinging on it,” Michael says. “Of course it was in the alien language, and I had to decode it, but it led me deep into the desert… to a ship, buried in the sand.”

“What?” Alex’s eyes are wide with disbelief, “ _Another_ ship?”

“No, I think the part that crashed with the pods was a separate piece. You know like on Star Trek, the saucer separation move?”

“Yeah, I do,” Alex nods. “But, wouldn’t it have been really damaged? And you were actually going to _use_ it.”

“It was damaged, but the way it had nose dived into the sand, the pieces were roughly in the right places. I was able to dig out just the doorway with my powers. And once the console was installed inside, the ship mostly knit itself together, just like the console had,” Michael explains. 

Alex smiles, and reaches for Michael’s hand, interlocking their fingers, “The pieces want to be together.”

“They do,” Michael grins shyly back. “But I had to put a lot of work into it too.”

Alex huffs knowingly. “So, is that where you kept disappearing to back then?” Alex speculates. 

“Yup. I’d head out to the desert, stay there for days - maybe a week - at a time. It’s how I got sober too. After the first trip out there I realized it was too risky to take my truck all the way every time. So I started taking it just halfway, and using a dirt bike the rest of the route. Not a lot of room for booze. But a lot of time to think.”

“And in that time you decided you were going to leave the planet? Leave Isobel, and Max, and me?” Alex’s voice trails off, his tone not accusatory, but concerned. 

“Hey,” Michael says, tugging Alex into his arms, “I’m not going anywhere,” he repeats, “I don’t even want to.” 

Alex tucks in as close as he can get. “I’m just trying to understand why you wanted to six months ago, when you had no idea whether any of your people were out there.”

“I still have no idea whether they are, or if those on the ship were all that were left,” Michael says regretfully.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, kissing an apology into the hollow of Michael’s neck.

Michael hushes him gently. “But other things _are_ different now.” He places a kiss to the top of Alex’s head. “Back then, I was in a bad place. I'd ruined everything. Burned it all down, every bridge. Plus, in a way I was feeling like I’d failed. ‘Cause if I’d just taken a few hours drive in the right direction, explored the _earth_ a little more, I could have found Caufield earlier. I didn’t want to make the same mistake with space.” 

“But you’re giving that opportunity up,” Alex says quietly. 

Michael sighs. “Would I like to find more aliens like me? Yes. But is it worth never seeing you and Isobel and Max ever again? Liz, Maria, Rosa, even Kyle? No. You’re my family. And I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, just holding each other.

“What are you thinking about, darlin’?” Michael finally asks. 

“How I had to beg you to stay,” Alex says wistfully.

“Did you ever consider that I showed up on your doorstep because I knew that you would?” 

“I did,” Alex admits, “But if that means you’re staying for me...”

“Too much pressure?” Michael teases. 

“No, Guerin—”

“At first I was staying for you. And Isobel and Max. I like to think that deep down I was headed to their doorsteps next if you hadn’t taken me in. I don’t really know but— the point is, now I’m sticking around for _me_.”

Alex sits up to look Michael in the eyes, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Michael smiles. 

Alex bites at his lip. “Will you show me sometime? The spaceship?”

Michael’s mouth opens and closes several times, but no sound comes out. 

Alex back peddles. “It’s okay, you don’t have to, I get it—”

“No, no, I want to -- one day. I’m just not ready yet. And it’s not anything to do with _us_.”

“Then, what is it?” Alex asks with curiosity. 

“Well, for starters, it’s a long trip out there, so we can’t take it lightly. But also… I want you to help me figure out some things with your code-cracking skills.”

“Oh?”

Michael nods. “I think together we could decipher more of the alien language, and maybe be able to access some of the ship’s old data,” he pauses, gulping. “I’m not sure I’m ready for the things we’ll find.”

“I’d love to help you,” Alex says fondly. “When you’re ready, you’ll let me know?” 

~~~~~

Another six months later, Michael lets him know.

“I’m ready,” Michael declares, without context. 

But Alex knows exactly what he’s referring to. “It’s a year to the day from your original planned launch date.”

“I know. I liked the poetry of it. But it’s totally arbitrary because we won’t be going there today anyways. We’ll have to make plans to be gone for a few days, I was thinkin’ maybe at the end of the month? I can swing a few days off then, if that works for you.”

“Sure, what days are we looking at?” Alex asks as he pulls up the calendar on his phone. 

~~~~~

Alex spends two hours just walking around inside the spaceship in awe. Michael trails behind him, pointing things out from time to time, under the guise of giving Alex a tour, but mostly simply enjoying the wide-eyed wonder on Alex’s face.

The rest of the day, and the next, they work together deciphering more of the alien language. A year ago Michael had already figured out enough on his own to use the controls, but he wants Alex’s help with something requiring a more delicate touch and less trial and error — accessing the ship’s logs.

“I think we have enough now to get past the next level of menu screens,” Alex says, looking up from his laptop. 

“Alright, let’s give it a shot. I’ll power it up,” Michael says as he presses his hand to the panel. 

It glows. 

With his free hand, Michael types in the sequence as Alex calls out and points at the symbols. 

“Michael, I think this takes us to the crew roster,” Alex says, seconds before the screens around the entire room fill with the faces of aliens. 

“You’re getting very good at reading that,” Michael says distantly as his eyes dart around the room, searching for familiar faces, all the while scared to find any. 

But the face he lands on is Alex’s — pale and horrified. 

“Alex? What’s wrong?”

Alex shakes his head. “I’m— I’m sorry. It just hit me that... these are all beings that Manes men tortured..." Alex says, voice hushed, barely able to get the words out, not sure if he even should. 

“I didn't bring you here to make you feel guilty,” Michael says apologetically. 

“I know,” Alex says, because he does, “I know. And I know this is harder for you than it is for me and I shouldn’t—”

“Hey,” Michael halts him as he wraps his arms around Alex from behind. “I also didn’t bring you here only because I needed your decoding skills -- I mean, they were very helpful but — the real reason I brought you here...”

“Mhmm?” Alex hums, molding his back into the safety of Michael’s broad chest. 

“...was because I knew I wouldn’t have the courage to watch any of the ship’s logs on my own. I needed you with me. _You_ , the person who gives me hope that there is good in the world."

Alex spins in Michael’s arms then, takes his face in his hands, and kisses him. 

They dance their way to a nearby crew bunk, stripping out of their clothes as they go, and fall into bed together. 

They easily maneuver in the cramped space, used to the tiny bed in the airstream, though they haven’t gotten up to anything in there since Michael moved into the cabin and the airstream took up residence in Alex’s yard.

Later, still curled up together in the small bunk, Michael pops a small screen out of the wall, and powers it with his touch. 

They start watching the logs. 

Half an hour in, they come across a video of Mara. It's brief — she's just giving a report on a minor mechanical issue with the ship that she'd fixed. 

They both cry through it anyways. 

When it’s done, Michael wants to rewind it, but they can't figure out the symbols, and the logs just keep playing one after the other.

They’re three videos past Mara when Michael starts frantically tapping at the screen in frustration, the tears coming more and more. 

Alex tugs him closer. "Hey, hey, we'll find her again. It's okay,” he whispers. “And next time, we’ll be smart, we'll record it on your phone, and you can keep it. Okay?”

Michael sniffles and rasps, “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

They fall asleep watching more of the logs hoping they will cycle back through to Mara again. The screen only turns off when Michael's hand slips from it in sleep as his fingers seek out Alex's skin instead.

~~~~~

When they return home a few days later, Michael hands his phone over to Isobel and Max.

“Guys, I’d like you to meet my mom.”


End file.
